


A Lonely World

by PrinceNux



Category: Original Work, Science Fiction - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 04:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceNux/pseuds/PrinceNux
Summary: Introducing: Priestly's version of the apocalypse that is also super gay! Yay!





	1. Chapter 1

They sit at the table tucked away in the corner of the galley-like kitchen, holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes because it is a shared knowledge that they both shall soon perish. 

The man appears to be in his late fifties, salt and pepper hair cut close to his scalp, laugh lines around his mouth and eyes turned into deep grooves over the years. The woman, his wife, is fairer looking as she still retains some of her hair color--a dirty blond--amongst the strands of gray. There are tear tracks on her cheeks, and a fear that is mirrored in her husband’s eyes. 

The space station lets out a groan then, a ripple sending the empty Mason jars rolling off the table and onto the floor. The wife was going to use the jars for canning the fruits and vegetables from her garden, but when her world started to collapse, she understandably lost the motivation to do so. Letting go of his wife’s hands then, the husband goes to his knees amongst the shards of glass from the jars, picking up the only one that had survived the fall and holding it gently in his calloused hands as if it were a newborn child. 

Sitting back in the chair, he holds out the jar, saying, “would this work, my love? To keep the rest of the galaxy, and the world, from being destroyed?”

Taking the proffered jar, the woman gazes down at it, turning it over in her hands and inspecting the clear surface for any cracks or chips. Setting the jar back down on the table, she nods vigorously, hair falling into her face as fresh tears roll down her cheeks. 

 

After such a revelation, the husband and wife begin to frantically search the kitchen and pantry of the space station, collecting all the Mason jars that they can. Sitting back down at the table once more, the man pulls up a holographic of the solar system and begins to carefully pluck each pixilated planet out of the display and sets each one on the table. This happens in silence, the two of them working together to try and save the only world that they have ever known until there are no more planets and all that is left is a map of the world floating between them.

 

Sighing deeply, the woman lays a hand on top of her husband’s, feeling more tears pricking at her eyes because of how much his hand is shaking. “My darling, Grant,” she says, and then finds that she does not know how to finish the sentiment. 

 

Looking up from where he is carefully separating the states, continents, and cities into jars, Grant nods, saying quietly, “you should go get some sleep, Julia. I’ll be here for a while.” Julia stands then, coming around the table to press a gentle kiss to Grant’s cheek before leaving the kitchen area. He watches her go, teeth grinding more with each shudder that passes through their floating home. There is not much time left, he knows. Not much time left at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Five year old Grant--named for her many times over great grandfather, but unaware of her namesake--sits bolt upright in bed with tears streaming down her face and a scream ripped from her. The nightmare that has awoken her is one that has been doing so since she was two years old. It is the same every time: two people much older than her parents are frantically trying to put the galaxy into jars but their hands are bleeding and the jars keep on dropping and breaking and it’s all so loud and there’s so much blood. Grant isn’t in the nightmare, though. She is not but a spectator, and she can do nothing to help the people--that look like they might be grandparents--from dying every night. 

Grant’s mother comes swiftly into her room then, switching on the overhead light and looking at the tear-streaked face of her child with a sadness of her own. Moving to the edge of the bed, Grant’s mother, Jenny, picks up the small child and goes out to the living room, settling down on the couch.

++++

Ten year old Grant wakes up screaming at her friend’s birthday party sleepover, tears streaming down her face and plopping one by one onto the sleeping-bag tangled around her torso. The parents of the girl are not very happy at this turn of events, even though they had been warned about Grant’s night-terrors, but still insisted that she stay over. So, while the friend’s father calls Jenny and Rick to come and get their daughter, the mother sits on the front porch with Grant, awkwardly patting her back. Needless to say, Grant is not invited to sleepovers anymore.

++++

Nineteen year old Grant wakes up at two in the morning, clammy from sweat and finds herself unable to go back to sleep. So, she does what any logical almost-twenty-year-old would do and climbs out her window. But, before she can shimmy down the tree onto the ground, her therapy puppy, Toby, puts his paws up on the windowsill and whines at her in an imploring manner. Letting out a good-natured sigh, Grant steps back into her bedroom and pulls on a too big sweatshirt that she tucks the puppy into before climbing down the tree and heading in the direction of the all-night grocery store.

 

In the morning, Grant’s mother finds her daughter curled up in the bathtub of her ensuite bathroom with cherry red hair dye on her fingers, and arms wrapped around Toby while they sleep.

++++

Twenty one year old Grant wakes up at three in the morning, heart beating like she’s running a marathon, choking back a scream that threatens to shatter the quiet of her room. Then, she almost does scream when a large shadow comes running into her room and jumps up on her bed. Reaching over to turn on the lamp sitting on the nightstand, Grant feels a wave of calm rush over her when the dark shape turns out to be Toby. The dog pads over the blankets and lays down by his owner's head, staring at her with wide eyes. Reaching over to turn off the lamp and laying back down, Grant runs shaking fingers through Toby’s caramel-colored fur until he sighs happily and starts to snore gently into her ear.

++++

Twenty three year old Grant wakes up, not because of the usual nightmare, but because her cellphone is ringing and buzzing on her nightstand. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, the first thing she sees is Toby, pacing in a tight circle and staring up at her phone. Yawning, she grabs the infernal device and brings it to her ear, briefly seeing that the time reads: 3:30 AM before her life explodes.

“Is this Grant Masters?” the voice on the other end asks before she can say anything in greeting. She nods at first, before realizing that the person speaking cannot see her, and clarifies that yes, she is in fact Grant Masters.

Things get kind of fuzzy after that, and without remembering putting on clothes and getting Toby into her car, Grant finds herself on the way to the hospital. On the way to identity the bodies of her mother and father. Through the haze filling her mind, the words “dead at the scene,” and “the paramedics did everything they could,” break through and slam into her consciousness over and over.

Part of her wants to go back home and get back into bed, and hope that in the morning, her parents will be at her doorstep ready to take her out to breakfast for her twenty fourth birthday. This revelation, that for her birthday, she’s going to be an orphan, brings tears to her eyes that blur her vision, make her white-knuckle the steering wheel. In the passenger seat, Toby whines and leans over to anxiously lick at Grant’s wrist. Patting the dog absentmindedly on the head, Grant pulls into a parking spot, narrowly missing the bushes lining the lot. Then, after rolling down the two front windows for Toby, she gets out of the vehicle and goes through the sliding glass doors into the hospital. 

++++

Twenty four year old Grant leaves the hospital, an orphan in paper this time with her mother and father’s death certificates in hand. She had requested for them to be cremated, not wanting to go through a joint funeral and having to deal with the potential of meeting family members she had never known before. Though, she is fairly certain that both of her parents were only children, since neither of them ever mentioned having any brothers or sisters. Getting into the car, she glances over at Toby, curled up and asleep in the passenger seat, and leaves the hospital parking lot without looking back. 


	3. Chapter 3

Grant wakes up in her parents bed, almost mummified in the sweat-soaked sheets, and an orphan for her birthday. Toby, curled up against her side, blinks himself awake and licks her face. Sitting up in bed, cloaked in the smell of her parents, scrubbing the tears and sleep from her eyes, she croaks, “it really did happen then, didn’t it, Toby?” Hearing his name, the dog jumps to his feet and heads down the stairs, seemingly unaware that it’s just the two of them now. 

Sighing, Grant goes blearily down the stairs, both hands gripped tightly on the handrail because everything is spinning like a hangover, though the only things influencing her are grief and loss. Once making it safely to the living room, she lets Toby outside and goes to sit on the porch, calling the landlord at her apartment complex and making preparations to move out. After that, she gets in touch with the insurance company, who inform her that they are very sorry for her loss, but her parents had already left the house to her in their last will and testament and there was no need for any further legalities as the house was already legally in her name. Stunned, she thanks them and hangs up the phone, dropping her head into her hands at the realization that Jenny and Rick Masters must have known they were going to die yesterday before it actually happened. 

The tears come then, and before she can compose herself, Grant is curled in on herself, hands still covering her face, sobbing so much that her chest heaves. Toby comes running up to her only a few moments after the sadness envelops her, putting a worried paw on her leg and whining deep in his throat like he wants to stop what is causing his owner pain, but cannot find a physical source. Wiping at the tears on her face, Grant pulls Toby into a hug, saying, “settle, silly dog, settle.”

When he whines again, she gets to her feet and goes back through the house to the frontdoor. Toby trots after her, following his human out to the curious moving box on wheels, and hopping up into the passenger seat when she opens the door for him. Then, closing the door, Grant goes around to the driver’s side and climbs in, bringing the car to life with a turn of the key and pulling out of what used to be her parents driveway with a determined glint in her eye and hands clasped tightly on the wheel.  
++++  
Grant spends the rest of the day packing up her apartment, fitting almost twenty four years of life--five of those spent in the little one bedroom apartment--into two large boxes, three milk crates, and her clothes and bedding into two trash bags. She finds it only a little bit depressing that she has accumulated so little, but is also grateful that there is not more to take. After taking everything out to her car, she arms herself with cleaning supplies and scrubs the apartment cleaner than it was when she first moved in. Once that is done and her limbs are heavy with sadness and fatigue, she leaves the apartment key taped to the inside of the mail slot and drives away from her home of the past five years for the last time. Like last night at the hospital, she doesn’t look back. 

When Grant gets back to what is now her house, she brings all of the things from her apartment inside and up to her old bedroom. She stands there then, watching the darkness from outside creep into the room; but soon finds that there is an incredible jitteriness seeping into her blood, making it impossible to stay still. So, leaving the small pile of belongings next to the open door, she goes around the house and frantically ransacks it of all her parents belongings. Most of their clothing and belongings go into bags and boxes for GoodWill. The only things of theirs that Grant can’t bring herself to get rid of are her mother’s wedding dress, the tuxedo her father wore; a baby blue sweater of her mother’s, and a plaid button up of her father’s with a rip in the collar and fraying around the bottoms of the sleeves.


End file.
